


In the Red

by persnickett



Category: Fast & Furious (2009), Fast and the Furious (2001), Fast and the Furious Series
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-08
Updated: 2011-02-08
Packaged: 2017-10-15 12:19:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/160781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persnickett/pseuds/persnickett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sunburn kink. Apparently it's a thing. Dom's thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Red

If it weren’t for the bright Mexican sun painting the inside of his eyelids a vivid red, Dom might have mistaken the first few drops for rain. But he knew better, even before a droplet hit his lips and he tasted salt. And by the time his sun-warmed skin was getting a steady and unwelcome sprinkle of ocean-cool water, Dom was ready. 

 

He didn’t need to open his eyes to see his silly-ass white boy standing over him, shaking his wet curls out like a water-logged golden retriever. It was just like Brian, and Dom waited. Because it was also just like Brian to give a deep giggle like this shit was the funniest thing in the world, which worked as well as anything to give away his position.

 

Without cracking an eye, Dom shot out a hand and made a wide swipe, effectively finding and catching Brian’s ankle. He got a squawk of triumphant laughter for his trouble. He was giving Brian what he wanted, he knew, but he couldn’t let this kind of thing go unpunished.

 

He yanked good and hard while he had the momentum and the element of surprise working for him. As it was, Brian stumbled in the sand and flailed around dramatically, but didn't quite go down. It was all Dom needed though, just time enough to roll to his feet and gain equal footing in front of Brian.

 

"What's the matter, Dom?" Brian asked, his teeth showing, white, in challenge; beads of water gleaming like diamonds on the deep gold of his skin. "You're all sweaty, don't you want a shower?"

 

Dom tackled Brian before he answered, and they both went down, hard, in the sand.

 

"Not from your dirty hippie hair..." He grunted, trying to get an arm lock on Brian, but both their skins were slick, Dom with sweat and Brian with sea water and sun-screen.

 

"You - " Brian laughed, and squirmed onto his back. Dom was about to be in trouble. "You _love_ my hair." He panted.

 

"Yup." Dom agreed, giving up on trying for Brian's arm, and grabbing a handful of it. "It makes a good handle." He tugged so Brian had to tip his head to the side, showing the long tendon in his neck.

 

"You're just - " Brian grunted and got one leg wrapped around Dom's lower back. "Jealous." And here came the other one, and yeah, now was when Dom was in trouble.

 

It was a pretty good trick, but Brian did it all the time and no one had ever called Dom slow. He had Brian's number a long time ago. Dom dropped all his weight on top of Brian, crushing a breath out of him, and rolled them to the side, where he could go for a head lock if he wanted to. He didn't.

 

"Why would I be jealous, when I can have it any time I want?" He tugged a little harder, bringing Brian's temple down, almost to his shoulder.

 

"Yeah?" Brian' s eyes flashed, his tongue darted out and he licked his lips. "Why don't you take it then?"

 

It was way past time to leave for siesta and the beach was deserted. Dom thought about licking a stripe up the exposed line of Brian's neck, then grazing his teeth back down the trail of moistened, tan flesh. But he laughed instead and let Brian loose.

 

"No way, O'Conner." He dusted his hand off on his hip. "You're fucking _covered_ in sand."

 

Brian rolled them again so he was straddling Dom.

 

"Same to you." He said, turning his head and spitting the grit out of his mouth. "You know you're not getting in the Camaro like that."

 

Dom scowled, and Brian laughed at him. Dom hated the cream (and rust) coloured '88 Brian called a Camaro. Almost as much as he hated what he knew was coming next. Brian hopped up and offered him a hand.

 

"Let's go rinse off."

 

Dom wasn't much for the beach. Although all the tanned bodies did it for him, the cold water and the sticky, scratchy sand he could do without. Not to mention the fucking jelly fish. Give him Margaritas pool-side, any day.

 

Brian liked to tell him he was full of shit, and everyone loved the beach. Brian could sit on the embankment behind the little house they'd found outside of Puerto Arista and stare at the ocean for hours.

 

It was almost worth it, on the days Dom promised to come here with Brian; watching his eyes crinkle and his smile go blinding. And Brian was like a little kid when they got there, running in and out of the water all day and wanting to wrestle. Sometimes he even made sand castles. Huge ridiculous fucking intricate things with bridges and tunnels – and moats, if any of the local niños saw what he was doing and played along, bringing him sea water in brightly-coloured plastic buckets with white braided handles.

 

Except it never failed. No matter how many times Dom said he wasn't going to swim when they got there, every single trip ended with him in wet trunks, shivering in the breeze on the way home in Brian's crappy convertible, with a towel under his ass to protect the 'upholstery'. Dom shook his head. Nothing with duct tape on it deserved that title.

 

Today was no different either, as Brian dragged him down toward the water a few paces before he took off running, as if Dom would want to race. He didn't even want to go in.

 

Dom waded in halfway up to his knees and bent down to splash the jarringly cool water over his arms and legs. Brian said rinse off. That’s what he was doing.

 

“Nuh-uh.” Brian said, when his head broke the surface and he saw Dom’s plan. He whipped his head to the side, sending a wide arc of water sluicing out of his hair and leaving it plastered to the side like a bad comb-over. It had grown out quite a bit in the five months they’d been here. “Your whole back is covered.” Brian started to laugh at him again. “So’s the top of your head.”  

 

Dom watched the water running over Brian's rippling body as he stood up. But then he ruined the view by launching himself playfully backward, probably trying to make the water look enticing. Sometimes Dom was convinced Brian didn't actually have a clue what enticed him.

 

"You don't wanna get your shorts wet." Then again, there were times Dom thought Brian was getting to know him a little too well. As much as he hated it, Dom had never once complained out loud about the uncomfortable drive home. 

 

"So take 'em off." Brian was grinning at him, just his head was visible above the surface of the gently lapping waves.

 

Dom snorted, and waded a little further into the chill.

 

"Come on, D. There's nobody here." Brian said this way too innocently. Like he was up to something. He brought one arm up out of the water and tossed something onto the shore. Brian's sopping trunks hit the sand with a wet splat.

 

So that's what he was up to.

 

"Oh yeah. Feels awesome." Brian was submerged to the neck again, Dom knew that the way Brian was making him wonder what his hands were doing under the water was deliberate. But it wasn't going to work on him. This was stupid. 

 

"See, it's no big deal if you have nothing to hide." He raised his eyebrows and poked out his tongue a little before turning around and taking a couple of strokes out deeper into the water, showing Dom the bright white tan lines on his ass.

 

That did it. Brian just had to make everything a challenge.

 

Once he was in, Dom had to admit it did feel pretty good. He'd always liked skinny-dipping, he just preferred to do it in a hot-tub. He and Letty had had more than their share of champagne victory celebrations doing just that. He made a mental note to run the idea by Brian, the next time one of them took a big race.

 

And when Brian turned around and noticed Dom had joined him, it got even better.

 

The water made them buoyant enough that Dom could crouch down into a kind of squat and then lift and drag Brian into his lap. It was different, and sort of nice, being able to hold Brian this way. Brian wrapped his legs around Dom's back like he had when they were horsing around on the sand, but for once he wasn't making a contest out of things.

 

He just looked at Dom, and waited. Dom didn't make him wait long. He leaned forward to fit their mouths together and Brian's arms went around his neck. Brian's skin was chilled and slippery with the sea, the heat of his mouth and tongue was a striking counterpoint.

 

Dom parted Brian's lips with his own and delved in, hungrily. Brian made a pleased little humming noise that always made Dom's breath catch and his dick swell.

 

Dom didn't mind this part of the beach, so much. But this close up, he could see the red stripe forming down the bridge of Brian's nose, making the electric blue of his eyes stand out even more starkly, nearly matching the cloudless sky.

 

"You're burnt, bolillo." Dom raised dripping fingers and tapped Brian on the nose. "We should go." But he leaned in again for another salt-water kiss.

 

"Aw." said Brian, when they broke apart.

 

"We’ve been here way too long." Dom surprised himself by arguing. He’d just been starting to enjoy this.

 

"Not you. Them." Brian said, unwinding himself from around Dom's waist, and nodding at something over Dom's shoulder.  

 

The slanting sun showed them the silhouette of a couple walking hand-in-hand toward them down the beach.

 

Yeah. It was really time to go.

 

Although at this time of day, these two were probably tourists, Chiapas wasn't known as the world's most tolerant or non-violent place. They'd never had any trouble, but Dom liked to keep it that way and he and Brian didn't flaunt it the way they might have gotten away with in LA. Not that they would have, anyway.

 

The only real trouble right now was, their trunks were well up on the beach. And if Dom got out of the water now, he was definitely gonna be guilty of some serious indecent exposure.

 

Looking to distract himself, Dom pushed off and took several long strokes out deeper into the water. It wasn't that he _couldn't_ swim. It was just that he _didn't_ very often. Then there went Brian past him, of course, like some kind of freaky tan and blond dolphin. The kid never stopped racing.

  
　  


The strolling couple had to step over their discarded trunks on their way past. The guy said something that sounded like English and the woman giggled. He put his arm around her and called out to them.

 

"Hola!" he said, with an American accent.

 

"Buenos dias!" the woman called, and poked her mate in the side for his cheekiness.

  
Brian returned her "buenos dias" but Dom just raised his hand in acknowledgement. Smartasses.

 

Brian chose this moment to show his complete lack of embarrassment, or sense of propriety, and tackle Dom around the waist. Dom pivoted and gave him the ducking he deserved. He came up, shaking his ridiculous surfer hair and laughing.

 

Another little wrestling match broke out that resulted in Dom going under once, and Brian getting it three more times, before Dom said, "They're long gone. C'mon, let's get your white ass home before you burn it to a crisp and it's no good use to me."

 

"Now _that_ would be unfortunate." Brian sighed and tipped his head to shake the water out of his ears. Just another reason not to go to the beach.

 

They shimmied back into their trunks, Brian having more difficulty dragging his sodden ones up his thighs, and headed back to the 'car'. Dom just didn't get it. Not old enough to be a classic, just old enough to be a piece of shit.

 

Dom was all about American muscle, don't get him wrong. Or at least he was all about it until '72. After that, the import market had taken off, and if you wanted to get a real car any newer than that, you were best off going Japanese.

  
　  


"I don’t know why you insist on driving this thing. You got a real serial killer issue don’t you Spilner?"

 

Brian stopped with his t-shirt held out in front of him. He never laughed when Dom talked shit about the way they met. There was still guilt there. Dom was maybe okay with that.

 

"That was years ago, nobody even remembers the 80’s except for you, old man." Brian said, and pulled the shirt over his head. "Besides, it was in Canada.” he said, when his head popped through the neck of the shirt. “What, were you up there hiding out from the law or something?"

 

Alright, so they'd hit the point where Brian would trash him back. That might be considered progress. Dom was okay with that too.

 

"And anyway, Dom, that car wasn’t a _convertible_." Brian said it like this was the only convertible in the world. Dom swore he'd seen three more old crap-buckets just like it in Tonalá alone.  

 

"You need to put that top up. You're sunburnt enough already."

 

"Nah." Brian said. "If we do that, I can't do _this_."

 

He picked up his surf board and jammed it in the back, skegs down, so the nose was sticking out behind like some kind of weird and annoying off-centre spoiler.  It wasn't lost on Dom that Brian's precious board was allowed in the car fresh from being plucked out of a sand bank, whereas he had to ‘rinse off’ until he was pristine. And freezing. At least today he was mostly dry, although the drive was still gonna be slightly uncomfortable with all the rough-housing and other stuff they’d been doing in the water running through his head.

 

 Dom declined comment, got in the passenger side, and waited while Brian climbed in behind the wheel, arranging his long spidery legs at the pedals. If Brian wanted to fry his skinny ass with more wind and sun, that was his deal.

 

Dom looked over at Brian once they'd hit the little two-lane highway and Brian opened her up a little. Brian had been putting a lot of work into his latest project and its song was starting to shake off the rust and come into tune. Dom could feel a dopey little smile creeping onto his face. He’d always enjoyed watching Brian drive.

 

When Brian raced, he kept the seat-back so upright that it would have bothered Dom. Ten and two. Blue eyes blazing with intense concentration, anticipating the win. But when they were just out for a cruise, Brian was pure California. He leaned back, languid and lanky, his elbow hanging out the window and one hand dangling off the shifter by the thumb. If an old song came on the radio, sometimes Brian would sing. Badly.

 

Dom's own little piece of home.

 

He'd been right about putting the top up, though. By now, the pink had spread across Brian's nose and cheeks, making him look even more like a big kid than usual. Vince used to burn like this, Dom remembered; taking in the seemingly harmless rays all day, until the sun went down and the cool of the night seemed to draw the stored heat out of him and back into his skin.

 

It happened the first time they went to Race Wars, and spent a full day in the desert sun. They were fresh out of high school, and riding the high of completing their first raceable project. They lost spectacularly, but they spent the night downing beer and tequila and strutting around the crowds of girls in skimpy clothing like champs until they couldn't stand.

 

They'd had to share the only bed in their borrowed trailer, and Dom could feel the heat of the day just pouring from Vince’s over-baked skin through the thin sheet separating them. It was the first time he’d felt his body responding to another man’s and he’d been torn up about it, staring at the ceiling and spinning out of control, until he had to go lock himself in the trailer's makeshift bathroom and take care of it. It was one of the most intense experiences of his life, and though at the time the possible significance of it had plagued Dom for weeks, the memory of it now had him shifting in the seat and aching to get home and out of the car.

  
　  


When they did finally get there, Brian's arms were burnt too. Dom noticed it while Brian fiddled with his key in the wobbly front door lock. Dom had been meaning to fix that.

 

Dom pointed it out the minute they’d gotten inside.

 

“What’d I tell you?” He said, pointing a finger at Brian’s forearm. “You’re cooked.”

 

“Nobody likes a know-it-all, Dominic.”

 

“Better than being a stubborn guero chingaso mule, and broiling yourself like a langosta.”

 

Brian was examining his arms in turn.

 

“I’ve had worse.” He shrugged and kicked off his flip-flops into the corner by the door.

 

“That’s better how?” Dom asked, knocking the sand out of his sandals on the door mat. “Now I’m gonna have to play nursemaid to your punk, terco ass.” Dom went on, before trudging right through the little open kitchen toward the back door. He pointed down the hall on his way. “Bedroom, now. Strip.”

 

“Now you’re talking.” Brian laughed, and started down the hall, peeling his shirt off as he went.

 

Aloe wasn’t native to Mexico, but it grew well here, and there was a modest farming market for the stuff starting up around the country. The people who had the place before them were either as foolish with the heat as Brian, or thought the shit was cute. They’d planted it back here and it had long since taken over the cracked adobe patio bricks, growing all over the damn place as nothing more than glorified weeds. Dom had been meaning to take care of it.

 

He ripped off a good half of one of the little bushes and made his way into the bedroom.

 

Brian hadn’t gotten any further than his shirt. He was standing with his back to the mirror and the bathroom door open, pulling down on his shorts and twisting his neck to see the sharp red line against the white.

 

“You’re right. It’s pretty bad. Shit, Dom.” Brain laughed when he saw the big aloe branch in Dom’s hand. “That gonna be enough?”

 

“Funny, I thought I told you to strip.” Dom ignored him.

 

Brian obeyed, and stretched out across their bed on his stomach. The burn was much worse on his back and arms, from lying on his surf board, paddling out to the break all day.

 

Dom climbed onto the bed with a knee on either side of Brian’s hips, straddling him.

 

“Is this where we get frisky?” Brian joked, wiggling his ass back and forth a little.

 

Dom knew this was hardly the time, but his dick had a mind of its own and it was starting to get interested.

 

“This is where you _behave_ ” Dom slapped him once on the ass – the only part of Brian that wasn’t burnt. “...and let me work.”

 

“Ah–haha-ow!” Brian laughed. “So we _are_ getting frisky.” But he settled down and stopped shaking his ass.

 

Dom started with the arms. Brian flinched, and bitched that the aloe was cold, but by the time Dom started on the back of his neck, Brian was arching into the touch, and making appreciative noises.

 

Dom was pleased Brian was enjoying this, it was supposed to feel good. But usually when Brian made those sounds, they were making out like horny teenagers, and getting ready to do more. Dom felt his dick starting to lengthen in his shorts. It had been a long day of Brian flirting and playing with him, and with all the hot, reddened skin laid out in front of him he couldn’t help but be reminded of his thoughts on the drive home.

 

He was going to have to finish this quickly, or there would be trouble.

 

Dom squeezed more of the thick gel out of the aloe leaves and onto his hands, and coated Brian’s back. Brian’s skin under Dom’s hands was fiery-hot, like passing his fingers through a candle flame.

 

He tried to be gentle with the inflamed skin, and used feathery downward strokes he knew Brian liked. It was a mistake. Brian liked it too much. He started to squirm, and moan, and as Dom worked his way down to the scarlet-and-white border across the top of his ass, Brian was grinding his hips into the bed.

 

“Jesus, Bri.” Dom scolded, but his voice came out a little too husky.

 

“You done?” Brian asked, his voice equally thick with lust. He didn’t wait for a reply. “Good.”

 

He raised his hips, rubbing his backside against Dom’s crotch.

 

“Brian,” Dom grunted, trying to push him away, but his hands were slick with aloe. “You’re gonna lose skin in a minute. Stop.”

 

“I knew it.” Brian purred. He could feel Dom’s erection straining to get free of his shorts and make its way home. “You like this.”

 

He pressed back a little harder against the hard line of Dom’s cock, making him stifle a moan.

 

“Brian...” Brian would recognize this tone. It was his last warning.

 

“Dom.” Brian answered. “Do it already. C’mon, please, you’re killing me.”

 

Who was killing who? Dom shifted his hips away, but he rubbed his hands over the globes of Brian’s butt cheeks, to let him know he wasn’t going anywhere.

 

Brian was looking back over his shoulder, watching as Dom pushed his trunks down and freed his now aching cock. It was already starting to leak a little, and he heard Brian take a breath.

 

 They had lube in a drawer just across the room, but Brian was impatient, pushing back into Dom’s hands. And they were already slippery with the juice of the aloe, anyway.

 

There was a thick layer of it still collected at the small of Brian’s back. Dom leaned forward and dragged his cock through it, rubbing his shaft across the slick, swollen surface. The heat of it was overwhelming. Dom bit his lip and threw his head back before he used his hand to stroke himself a couple of times, spreading the aloe evenly.

 

Brian must have still been watching because he let out a moan.

 

“Dom…if you don’t…” Brian panted, “I’m gonna start without you.”  He got a hand under his belly and wrapped it around himself.

 

“I said behave,” Dom growled, reaching under and slapping Brian’s hand away.

 

Brian made a keening sound. His breathing went ragged, too, as Dom squished more of the goop out of the plant and started to prepare him. He only got as far as one finger, before Brian had enough, thrusting back roughly.

 

“Dom.” He said through clenched teeth. “Now.”

 

Always racing. Dom smiled to himself before he pushed in, slow as Brian would allow for.

 

When Dom pulled Brian up against him, the contact with the fiery skin felt like sparks. Dom wasn’t going to last long, and he slowed his pace, wrapping one coated hand around Brian’s dripping cock, to stroke and squeeze firmly, the way Brian liked.

 

 Brian felt hot and feverish, and Dom couldn’t stop running his free hand over his chest and belly, catching his nipples sporadically and making him gasp.

 

The first spasm of Brian’s release sent a shock through him, and it was all the warning Dom got. He came fast, bucking and gasping, and let out a surprised little shout.

 

They collapsed in a heap, sweat-sticky and slimy. When they could breathe again, Dom chuckled, and nuzzled the back of Brian’s head. He still had his trunks half on, tangled around his calves.

 

“I’ve never heard of anyone with a sunburn fetish before.” Brian. Ever the smartass. “See Dom? I told you everybody likes the beach.”

 

“You also said nobody likes a know-it-all. Brian.” Dom rolled carefully off of Brian and gave his ass another swift slap, getting a yelp and a laugh out of him.

 

Dom lost the trunks over the edge of the bed and settled back. He sighed, and carded his fingers through Brian’s salt-stiffened curls.

 

It was true. He did love Brian’s hair. When he was recovered, he’d go and grab his screwdriver set and tighten up that lock on the door.  He thought he just might leave the aloe out back for a while longer though.

 

“Aloe and jizz might be good for the skin but it’s sticky as shit,” said Brian. “I need a shower.” He rolled up onto one elbow and leaned down to kiss and nibble at Dom’s lower lip. It was a habit Dom always made sure to encourage.  He gave a little grunt of pleasure in his throat.

 

“And probably a nurse.” Brian went on, sneaking in another kiss.

 

“You know, to wash the delicate –“ he broke off, and punctuated his sentence with kisses. “Hot,” kiss. “Tender,” kiss. “Swollen,” nibble. “Sensitive skin on my back.”

 

Dom groaned as he felt his body responding, slowly the second time around, to the things Brian’s mouth was doing – both the familiar nipping and sucking as well as the words that had never sounded so suggestive until today.

 

This was bad. Brian was a constant tease as it was. Dom was never going to hear the end of this.

 

“I’ll just have to rub it on you, all over again.” He pointed out.

 

“You’ve caught on to my dastardly plan.” Brain said, rubbing his pink-topped nose against Dom’s and nibbling at his lip one more time.

 

Dom growled again, pulled Brian’s teasing mouth down, and made him get serious. Here he was playing games, when Dom had things he should be _doing_.

 

And really, they’d left it this long, fixing that loose lock could probably wait a couple more days, too.

 

 _________

'Snick July 2010


End file.
